The Bandit Raid

Malton skillfully woke the sleeping mercenaries.

"The—the sentries vanished without a word...?! Unbelievable! To abandon their watch and desert like that!"

"……."

"B-but why do my cheeks sting so much? Do you happen to know why...? It feels exactly like I've been slapped silly..."

"I have no idea," Malton replied.

"Beats me," I added.

Malton and I hid our flushed palms behind our backs.

As the mercenary eyed us suspiciously, Malton cleared his throat and spoke.

"...Now is not the time for idle chatter. Wake the rest of our sleeping companions. We shall go search for the mercenaries who left the camp."

"R-right, got it! I'll make sure everyone's awake!"

Realizing the gravity of the situation, the mercenary swallowed hard and rushed out of the tent.

After confirming that he was going around waking his sleeping comrades, Malton headed toward the forest, and I followed immediately behind him.

Upon reaching the edge of the woods, Malton flipped his robe inside out, revealing the black lining to camouflage himself.

In an instant, Malton was perfectly outfitted for stealth.

Adjusting the shutter of his lantern, he spoke.

"...If we keep the lantern too bright, it might expose our position, so I shall dim the light as much as possible. There is no telling what dangers lie ahead, so stay close behind me."

"Understood."

Malton stepped into the depths of the forest, tracing the missing mercenaries' tracks without a moment's hesitation.

Even in the pitch-black darkness, his movements were remarkably natural and fluid.

"...What business could they possibly have in a dense forest like this? Especially at this hour, when everyone else is asleep."

"We shall find out soon enough. Though I highly doubt it is for any noble purpose."

"Have you always been this good at tracking people?"

"...Of course not."

"……."

Liar.

I kept pace with Malton, subtly probing him as we moved.

Navigating a forest with minimal light was no easy feat, but it was in moments like this that the skills I had honed in my past life proved invaluable.

First, I slowly closed and opened my eyes to allow them to adjust to the dark.

Since rod cells, which are highly sensitive to light and shadow, are concentrated around the periphery of the retina, I relied on my peripheral vision rather than looking straight ahead.

Instead of relying solely on my sight, I engaged all my senses—the brush of leaves against my forearms, the whispering wind...

"Wait...!"

A sudden discordance caught my ear, and I grabbed Malton's shoulder to halt him.

Faint male voices were woven into the rustling wind.

It was clearly a human presence, not dryads or forest spirits.

As we quietly scanned the area ahead, the flickering glow of a torch in a clearing revealed three human silhouettes.

Wait... those aren't the missing mercenaries.

Their silhouettes were strangely unfamiliar.

They wore dark, light armor—nothing like the gear of the mercenaries we had traveled with for the past three days.

The numbers didn't match the missing men, and the mercenary captain was nowhere to be seen.

Malton murmured softly.

"...Bandits. Like rust on iron gear, no matter how much you scrape them away, they always return."

"Tell me about it... I didn't expect to run into them here of all places."

"Hmm... You recognized them as bandits at a single glance?"

"Yes. Their gear is a total mismatch. A worn gambeson on the torso, but ill-fitting greaves on the legs... and swords that don't match their build. They probably plundered it all from adventurers."

To make matters worse, they had dyed all their equipment black to aid in ambushes.

Wrapping cloth around their daggers to prevent light reflection was also a classic trick of assassins.

If it were me, I would have gone a step further and wrapped cloth around noisy parts like buckles and greave joints, or even applied slime gel as an adhesive to muffle the sound.

Malton's eyes widened at my words.

"For a young man to possess such keen insight is truly remarkable...! Could you perhaps be...!"

"Let me make one thing clear: I am not a bandit. I've never robbed innocent citizens. I just know how they think because my hometown was constantly plagued by them."

Of course, my patron deity was the god of filthy, underhanded thieves.

The game was supposed to assign the rune that best suited the player, so why on earth did it give me this one...?

"I see. In any case, we must subdue them first and find out what is happening. I shall take the two on the left. Can you handle the man on the right? There is no need to show mercy."

"Leave it to me."

Malton and I quietly drew our weapons and made our move.

Having leveled up by hunting monsters over the past three days, I felt reasonably confident in my player-versus-player combat skills.

I crept up behind the intruder, taking extra care not to let the moonlight reflect off my blade.

If I don't kill him in one blow, I'm dead!

So, I would end it in an instant.

Slash!

Concealed in the shadows, I swung my cutlass with all my might.

A slashing attack, capitalizing on the cutlass's design, which favored slicing over thrusting.

Avoiding the protection of his gambeson, I severed his neck in a single strike. Blood sprayed as his body collapsed forward.

Despite the cheerful system message, my heart felt heavy.

This lingering discomfort just won't go away.

Perhaps it would take more time to shed my modern sensibilities and grow fully accustomed to taking lives.

Shaking off the prickling guilt that contrasted with my cold resolve, I looked to my side, only to witness an extraordinary sight.

A magic trick where a human head literally vanished!

The head of the bandit, having undergone an extreme "diet," caved in as brain matter spilled out.

"Dear me... I failed to control my strength. I have rarely had occasion to strike another human being, you see..."

Seeing his companion slaughtered by Malton's mace, the sole remaining bandit shrieked and drew his sword, but—

"Shh... Do not raise your voice so."

Crack!

Malton swung his mace once more, and with a sickening crunch, the bandit's right arm bent at a grotesque angle.

"Oops... I had only intended to bruise you..."

"……."

I shook my head in disbelief, watching Malton lie through his teeth with an utterly straight face.

To survive in this world, acting skills of this caliber had to be a passive trait.

Malton and I immediately subdued the screaming bandit and began our interrogation.

"...Speak. Who are you, and why are you here? What is your connection to Captain Richman?"

"W-what do you think you're... *Gah!* Do you think... I'll talk?! If you don't let me go right now, my crew will come and—"

"Whose orders are you following? What is your objective?"

"……."

The bandit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shut his mouth.

I could sense his grim determination to take his secrets to the grave.

"Doran, I am sorry, but I must ask you to..."

"I'm on it."

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shoved a thick branch into the bandit's mouth to gag him.

Malton stared at me for a moment, surprised by how I had anticipated his intent as if we were partners of many years, but he quickly got to work.

CRACK!

"Mmmph?!!!"

The mace shattered the bandit's knee.

Once, twice—every time the blunt weapon descended, a horrific sound of splintering bone echoed through the night.

A pool of blood spread across the grass. The bandit's eyes rolled back as he tried to scream, but I only shoved the branch deeper into his mouth to muffle the sound.

"Gurgle...! *Gah!*"

"...I believe that should suffice. Are you ready to speak now?"

"I-I'll talk! *Argh...!* Please... I'll talk!"

"It seems a bit lacking... Let us shatter his shins as well."

"Please, just let me speak!!! *Sob...*"

"He says he wants to talk."

"So it seems."

Malton lowered his mace with a satisfied expression.

The bandit's confession was simple.

"So that mercenary captain... Richman is in league with your bandit crew. He led the caravan here to slaughter everyone and plunder their goods?"

"Exhausting the other mercenaries by making them fight monsters, drugging their ale, and launching a midnight raid... A classic bandit scheme."

I had been suspicious ever since he offered free ale, but having my doubts confirmed left a bitter taste in my mouth.

The reason he lost interest after asking for my level was probably because he deemed me too weak to interfere with his plans.

There was no point in feeling wronged. This was Velheim.

A den of swindlers where the honest were exploited, and everyone was eager to prey on the weak.

"Wait, wasn't this commission brokered through the Adventurers' Guild? Their identities should be verified. Why would they do this...?"

"They were likely committing minor crimes in the area and decided to pull off one massive heist before fleeing. ...As a fellow escort, I can only apologize for dragging you into this."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for, Malton. It's those bastards who are in the wrong."

"Thank you. ...But how did they lure the monsters?"

"I-I don't know...! I'm just a low-ranking grunt! I only did what I was told!"

The bandit pleaded desperately through his agony.

"...It seems you have an inkling, Doran."

"……."

I nodded without denying it.

There was indeed a consumable item in Velheim capable of doing just that.

It had been banned because it was far too dangerous and highly prone to criminal abuse.

"...Let us head back to the camp for now. According to him, the bandits should be preparing to launch their raid on the caravan right about now."

"Indeed. And as for this bandit..."

"N-no... please...!"

Those were the bandit's final words.

*

Malton and I quickly retraced our steps and emerged from the forest.

But even before we cleared the tree line, we knew the battle had already begun.

"Hold the right! Block the right! Dammit! Anyone with a shield, get up front and block those arrows!"

"Fuck! They're going to break through! Hold the line, everyone!"

"If you have any magic scrolls, use them now! Don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hoard them like family heirlooms only to regret it in the afterlife!"

Furious shouts and the clashing of weapons echoed through the air.

At the same time, my system log updated with a chime.

Ding!

Malton let out a low groan and muttered.

"...It seems we are a bit too late. We must have missed them along the mountain path."

"Still, it is a relief we woke everyone up first. If we hadn't, by now..."

"They would have all been assassinated under the cover of darkness..."

Instead of rushing in blindly, Malton and I hid behind the trees to assess the situation.

If the odds were too overwhelming, we would have to consider fleeing immediately rather than fighting.

"The bandits slightly outnumber the mercenaries... and since they were ambushed, the mercenaries are at a disadvantage. They're also exhausted from fighting off monsters for the past three days..."

"They are barely holding on by using the carriages as barricades. It seems the mercenary we woke is putting up a good fight. If we join now, we might tip the scales... What do you wish to do?"

"What? We have to help them, of course."

This wasn't out of the goodness of my heart.

If they were just ordinary citizens, I would have fled instantly, but there was a merchant caravan among them.

And no matter how small the caravan, having merchants in your debt was incredibly useful.

Not only would it grant various perks, but a letter of introduction would also open doors to other merchant groups.

Of course, that would all be meaningless if I died, but didn't I have the ultimate insurance policy right beside me?

With Malton's skills, a bandit crew of this size is a piece of cake.

Malton's true strength shone far brighter when dealing with humans than when hunting monsters.

I declared confidently.

"Let's go, Malton. Let's show those scoundrels the taste of your mace!"

"Hmm... To prioritize the safety of others even when your own life is at risk... You are far more righteous than I thought."

"What? Where is this coming from all of a sudden...?"

"I am sorry, but I do not think I can fight."

"Wait, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠why are you suddenly backpedaling now of all times...? Oh."

Turning my head, I realized something was terribly wrong with Malton.

His fingertips were trembling, his golden hair had lost its luster, and his complexion was so pale he looked almost undead.

I knew this symptom all too well.

The signs of the curse...

A dreadful curse that could not be purged even if one carved away their flesh and ground their bones to ash.

The harbinger of the endless nightmare that consumed the man who was both an NPC and my friend.

Sure enough, Malton gasped for breath and coughed up blood.

"I-I am sorry... *cough!* Of all moments... *cough*..."

I looked down at Malton, who was clawing at the dirt, staining the ground around his feet with blood.

How many times had I witnessed this exact scene?

Through countless playthroughs, I had searched desperately for a way to break Malton's curse.

But by the time I finally uncovered a clue, the symptoms had always progressed beyond saving.

Every single time, I had been forced to watch him fade away, feeling the crushing helplessness of a mere player.

But this time was different.

I gripped the vibrating orb humming in my pocket and asked.

"If... if I could lift that curse. If I could free you from this agony... would you help me?"

"Your jests are... *cough*... ill-timed. Do you think I simply sat idly by as this curse consumed me? If the renowned paladins and high priests of the holy orders could not break it, how could you?"

"……."

"But... if you truly can lift this curse, I swear I shall aid you with all my heart and soul from this day forth."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I am! Why would I joke in a situation like—"

Before Malton could finish, I pulled the cursed orb from my pocket.

Malton immediately recognized the object in my hand, his eyes widening in sheer shock.

"H-how do you have that...?!"

"...I plundered a lich's treasury. Malton, this is the source of your curse, isn't it?"

"W-well, yes, there are few artifacts capable of inflicting a curse this potent... No, wait, you plundered a lich's treasury?! How the fuck did you manage that?!"

"We can talk about that over drinks later... So, can you fight if we use this?"

"I-I mean, if this curse is lifted, subduing those bandits would be child's play... but there is still one thing you do not know."

Malton spoke with a sorrowful expression, as if spitting out a bitter stone.

"That is a cursed orb crafted by the Order of Andira. It is an artifact of such immense power that once a curse is unleashed, it can never truly be erased. While destroying the orb itself is an option, such a drastic measure would only transfer the curse to you instead."

Malton slowly shook his head.

He raised a hand stained with blood and dirt, pushing the orb away.

Even though it was his sole chance to be liberated from the curse that bound him.

Even amidst the agonizing pain, his green eyes remained clear, reflecting a fierce resolve—he would rather suffer in this sea of misery than live a cowardly life.

Yes.

Of course.

Because the elven warrior Malieverton I knew was exactly that kind of man.

In a world teeming with villains and swindlers, Malton's unwavering integrity shone like a pearl in the mud.

But.

If I were the type to give up so easily, I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

"What if... what if I have a way to turn this curse to my advantage?"

"What do you mean...?"

"Just watch."

I slowly turned my back to him, stood up, and uttered the incantation.

"O walker of death, rise and walk once more."

Before Malton's wide, astonished eyes, a skeleton warrior slowly began to take shape.