Chapter 15

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 15

Chapter Title: Dice

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Joining the subjugation squad was easier than I'd imagined.

For a ragtag band of thieves like this, what mattered to the squad wasn't elite quality—it was sheer numbers.

Overwhelm them with numbers to break their morale, then let the nobles' knights and soldiers sweep through the rest.

After that, adventurers mopped up the stragglers.

The base pay was pretty decent for the work, and you could even snag extra rewards by killing off the leftovers and claiming their loot.

Easy stuff.

If we're talking pure danger, the small-scale goblin village subjugation I'd done with Ban was way riskier. But I'd chosen to stick with the rear supply lines for a different reason altogether.

I wasn't ready to kill people.

But this world is brutally cruel—it stole the handful of happiness I'd been clutching so dearly and crushed it underfoot.

So now, I had no choice but to get ruthless myself.

That said, just resolving to do it wouldn't change much.

So I'd volunteered for the front lines this time—to witness people dying firsthand and steel my own resolve in battle.

All my hard work up till now had been about protecting myself.

Swinging a sword was to avoid dying pointlessly, taking on quests was to make ends meet.

"But now I get it."

The gloomy murmur wasn't directed at anyone—it was just me talking to myself.

"Training with the sword and grinding out quests diligently isn't enough."

That could protect me, sure, but not the happiness I'd gained.

I'd felt that down to my bones this time.

To safeguard my happiness, I'd have to get a little cruel... a little vicious.

I scanned the posted notices on the board, fists clenched tight.

The squad was departing in three days, I'd heard.

A public notice had gone out to everyone who'd joined, telling us to prep by then.

I had time for a quick quest, but instead of taking one, I decided to check my status.

I pulled up my status window.

I'd kept up with quests and sword training without slacking, but my swordsmanship showed no signs of climbing past E-rank.

No talent for it, I guess. Can't be helped.

Besides lacking talent, I didn't even have a proper teacher anymore.

So all my "training" amounted to was repeating Grandpa's old lessons from memory.

Frustrated with my situation, I'd checked the bookstore for a decent sword manual once, but books were way too pricey for my wallet—I gave up.

To afford one I actually wanted, I'd need to save steadily for half a year. In the end, I figured it'd be smarter to hire a swordmaster with that cash.

"Swordsmanship can wait."

I'd just have to trust that steady effort would eventually push it from F to E like before, and keep at it.

With that, I checked my other traits.

[Silent Steps C]

A handy trait that lets me walk without making a sound.

I'd once held my breath, smeared dirt over myself to mask my scent, crept up slow, and plunged my sword into a wild boar's neck.

It worked not just on humans, but on beasts with keen senses too—I'd confirmed that much.

If it levels up more, maybe I'll be able to run silently too? Who knows.

Problem is, I had no clue how to train it.

The rest...

Autonomy was my one edge against the Player, and I had a vague idea how to grow it.

Keep defying their orders with my own will, and it'd probably strengthen naturally.

But I didn't welcome situations where the Player issued commands in the first place. And since I didn't know my limits on resisting, growth scenarios were best avoided altogether.

I shook my head and glared at the last trait.

[Gloomy Aura D]

The reason I couldn't meet people's eyes.

A curse that draped me in disgust and revulsion, per Ban's words.

If this grew stronger... God forbid.

Even at this subtly low D-rank, locking eyes made anyone short of a saint want to punch me.

One more level, and people might try to kill me just for looking at them. The thought made me shudder.

"Tch..."

Tongue clicking at how nothing had changed since leaving Diran, I headed back to the inn.

No friends left at the guild anymore—sitting around idle would just invite trouble.

"No flashy progress, but it's not like I'm standing still. Gotta take comfort in that."

Knowing I had no talent, yet expecting big changes after a few weeks of effort? That'd be ridiculous.

For now, all I could do was grit my teeth and think, Today feels a bit better than yesterday.

Comparing to right after leaving Diran, it wasn't a huge leap, but I'd definitely improved some.

"My grip on the sword doesn't shake anymore."

Less skill growth, more like my muscles had bulked up a bit.

Endless quests and training had built some strength, even on this body that didn't pack on muscle easily.

Plus, I wasn't skimping on food anymore, so maybe it was inevitable.

I drew my sword and swung it through the air a few times, checking my form.

The whoosh was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠razor-sharp.

"Light and sturdy, Grandpa said."

Nothing fancy, but solid quality for sure.

Some guys eyed it covetously now and then—that said it all.

"Please hold up this time too."

I whispered to the blade.

A pathetic ritual, maybe, but it was all I could rely on.

Steeling myself again, I glanced up at the sky.

Heavy clouds made it look oppressively gloomy, like a downpour was brewing.

Not pitying a wretch like me, of course—just mirroring my mood, or worse, foreshadowing the days ahead. It soured my spirits.

Three days until departure.

I needed to prep thoroughly.

Sharpened the blade, trained with the sword, imagined killing people over and over.

Killing in my head was effortless, but reality wouldn't play out so neatly.

Still, no idea how to brace for the act itself.

I knew I'd have to kill eventually, but when the moment hit, how was I supposed to keep my emotions in check?

All I could do was try my best.

Swing the sword, imagine, run the hills, swing again—two days of that loop.

Final day: stocked up on long-march supplies.

Flint, oil, whetstone, dried rations, rope, and a quality dagger.

All set. Next day, joined the squad and we set off.

Front-line adventurers alone numbered over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forty, excluding supplies. Two nobles, four escorting knights, twenty soldiers under them.

Thieves were around thirty strong? More than double.

"Hope the knights leave us some small fry."

"Yeah, last op they cleaned house— no extra pay."

They talked like thief-hunting was a picnic, zero tension.

Those two were same-rank adventurers, from what I knew. How were they so chill?

Sure, knights and soldiers would handle the brunt, but stray blades and arrows didn't discriminate, right?

Over-tensing was poison, but a healthy edge seemed smart.

My own fist was slick with sweat.

Everyone around me just laughing and chatting—it grated.

Figured since knights and soldiers were up front, they'd be safe in the back?

Didn't sit right, but if that's how this world rolled, I'd have to accept it.

Shook my head.

No adventuring buddies, so I marched silently all day. Next morning...

The guy walking beside me got bored and started tripping me up.

Nearly fell a bunch of times. Pissed me off, but breaking formation or fighting a sure win? Nah. I endured quietly.

At least he didn't go too far with nobles watching—manageable.

"Kid's got no business here. Just gonna piss himself in fear, right?"

"Don't pick fights with brats, dumbass."

He'd toss jabs at his buddies now and then, fishing for backup insults, but got no takers.

How much time passed like that?

Cloudy skies.

Strong winds chilled me; I pulled my clothes tighter.

The two nobles up front started briefing.

"Intel says the thieves aren't hiding or slowing down. They're irredeemable scum who've forsaken their humanity. Hesitating to slaughter them makes you no better! Slay them all to uproot chaos from the world—it's the righteous path. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No mercy!"

Branded the thieves pure evil, us as good guys.

Not the most eloquent speech, but it gave our killing a holy stamp of approval.

Everyone roared in response when he finished—loud enough for the mountain hideout thieves to hear for sure.

No sneak attack; the war cries were to crush their will first.

What followed wouldn't be a fight—it'd be a one-sided massacre. Easy to see.

The squad pushed into the mountains where the thieves lurked.

A few amateur traps here and there, but sharp-eyed adventurers spotted and dismantled them like ghosts.

How far up did we climb?

Then the bandit stronghold came into view.

That's when it happened.

Time froze.

This sensation—I'd been through it a few times. I steeled myself calmly.

Whatever choices popped up, I wouldn't pick any.

But in the frozen time, no choices appeared.

"6?"

"What the...?"

I furrowed my brow at the sudden twist.

That's when a volley of arrows rained down from the stronghold.