Chapter 17

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 17

Chapter Title: Thief Pack Subjugation Success

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Even without me consciously willing it, just walking made the sound vanish.

It wasn't just the sound of footsteps, either.

No sound came from my body at all.

Since my body wasn't truly black, there was the sound of it cutting through the air when I swung my sword, but that was it.

Mêlée.

In that kind of chaos, being the only one without sound thinned my presence.

The creepy sensation of unease only kicked in after someone noticed me, so my Gloomy Aura was useless too.

I walked.

I approached a thief facing off against an adventurer and brought my sword down on his back.

By the time he registered the sound of the sword swinging, it was already buried in his neck.

A chilling, repulsive sensation crawled from my fingertips into my brain, but I couldn't afford to wallow in petty disgust.

I reached out to the adventurer who was on the verge of collapse.

He scowled when our eyes met, slapped my hand away, and hauled himself up on his own. I let out a sigh as I watched.

The situation wasn't good.

The thieves' gear was in way better shape than I'd expected.

We had a knight on our side, so we were pushing forward somehow.

But the advance was too slow, and the thieves were clashing against the adventurers encircling them, buying time to escape.

"...Guess I have to help."

To resolve this quickly, it seemed better to smash their main force fast and free up the knights and soldiers to deal with the runners.

My breathing was ragged. Tension had my muscles knotted uselessly, and my arms ached after just a few swings.

I walked.

No matter how urgent, nothing happens if I don't walk.

I headed for their main group.

In the clamor, another thief slunk out from hiding, trying to slip away.

I tensed, thinking I'd have to fight, but he passed right by without even registering me.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, but I hadn't realized it worked on humans too.

I shook my head to clear the pointless thoughts.

Screams echoing from all around scrambled my mind.

I had to get ruthless. I'd steeled myself for this, chosen to come here instead of the supply train.

Maybe my resolve wasn't strong enough.

Or maybe, resolve aside, I was just too weak.

My stomach churned.

Nausea surged, begging to be vomited out.

But I couldn't.

I forced the bitter taste back down my throat. It burned like a chemical scorch.

No matter how much I shook the blood off my sword, it felt heavy.

Cleaving monsters or beasts felt nothing like cutting down people.

"Hoo..."

I steadied my breath.

I headed for the main group. Their gear was solid, but if they were holding this firm, there had to be a leader calling the shots.

Take him out, and they'd crumble.

I figured it was something only I could do.

No more casualties. That's what I thought.

My mind raced, but I could only walk.

The bandit lair was bigger than the informant had said.

At a glance, there were over thirty of them—more than twice our ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠numbers from the start.

"Once this is over, I'll hunt that informant down and kill him."

I muttered under my breath.

If he'd fed us bad intel, he'd pay the price.

I scanned the main group.

In the deadly frenzy of blood and flying flesh, three figures stood out as oddly safe.

Two nobles guarded by soldiers, and one seemingly protected by the thieves themselves.

He wasn't even armed, and his clothes screamed "not your average bandit rabble."

That was the guy.

I was sure of it.

Eliminate him, and this hell would end.

I kept walking slowly.

The silence and faded presence only worked while moving—stopping brought it all back.

I gripped my sword tighter and pressed on.

I had to get ruthless, disgusting.

That's the resolve I'd made.

So I would.

On the way to the main group, I saved three adventurers.

Every time I drove my sword into a thief's neck, tearing flesh, I weakly wished it was all a dream.

But when the blade bit deep, snagging on bone, I forced my eyes wide open and stared straight at them.

What good was it whining that I didn't want this?

How often in this world did things go the way I wanted anyway?

So, blaming the situation changed nothing.

I could save my pathetic brooding for stargazing alone at night.

I couldn't control what came at me, but I could choose how to act.

And I'd chosen this.

I took out thieves and saved adventurers as I went.

It stung getting looks of disgust even after helping, but I endured.

Almost there.

As I closed in enough to feel the battle's heat, a guttural roar finally formed words.

"Damn bastards! Enemy or not, funding a bandit pack?!"

Sir Neon, who I'd thought could mulch these thugs in seconds, was struggling.

His three fellow knights were tied up with opponents too.

They didn't look easy marks, and with the knights stalled, the soldiers couldn't push.

Bandits holding off knights? Absurd.

They'd probably been backed by another city, got caught in our attack before they could bail.

None of it made sense.

From the informant with his bogus intel to the city sponsoring these scum.

Endless disgust fueled my sword arm.

I didn't care about whatever backstory I didn't know.

"Push harder! Is this all you've got as my soldiers? Sweep these bandits now!"

A noble bellowed, and similar shouts came from the other side.

I kept walking nonstop.

They hadn't spotted me yet, but any closer and they might.

It hid sound and presence, not sight.

If I entered their view, spears and swords would fly, so I stayed low, creeping forward, waiting for an opening.

Against dozens protecting their rear boss, my blade wasn't sharp enough.

Just then, a spear slipped through a gap in a soldier's shield.

He vomited blood.

His scream drowned in the din.

If I were stronger, could I have charged in, taken the leader's head, and ended it?

That delusion twisted into guilt swelling in my chest.

If I'd trained harder, wouldn't I be much stronger now?

Wouldn't I have ended this sooner instead of skulking?

One soldier down, and the line cracked.

Overextending had created the gap, and disaster followed.

Now the soldiers were falling back.

One shield gone meant one gap.

Weapons poured in. Then two more skewered and dropped.

Blood and guts spilled out.

A hammer crushed a skull. Teeth, bone, clear fluid, brain bits, an eye—everything flew.

The gruesome deaths broke their momentum.

As the tide turned in seconds and thieves swarmed, I realized my chance had come.

I was terrified.

Of course I was.

But it was a chance born from dying people, and I was the only one who could take it.

So, no matter how scared, I had to force it through.

"Haa... haa..."

Breathing ragged, vision narrowing, heart pounding, body soaked in sweat.

Dirt clung to sweat-slick skin, gritty.

Blood from my side wouldn't stop, leaving me dizzy. Something kept rising from my gut.

Each step eroded my balance.

I dragged the blade tip along the ground.

Too weak to carry it.

Storm clouds gathered, as if mocking the clear day.

Soldiers and adventurers died in vain.

Knights faltered, nobles' faces twisted in fear.

To make all that death and terror mean something, they needed my strength.

I slipped naturally into the thief ranks.

High on victory, they ignored me.

Mingled among them, their filthy glee felt sticky.

They just pressed forward, slaughtering soldiers.

Their leader couldn't hold back his grin either.

"You morons! We'd have won just pushing slow, but you're self-destructing!"

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Cocky certainty of triumph.

But no.

I was certain.

Because...

"...Thanks for yelling. Made you easy to spot in the crowd."

I gripped my sword and thrust.

His armor blocked the heart, but there was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a gap between helmet and plate at the neck.

Blood sprayed into my mouth.

Fishy and vile—I spat it out.

His sudden disappearance threw his men into confusion, glares turning my way from all sides.

I'd taken the leader at their center, but now escape looked impossible.

"Heh..."

A hollow laugh escaped me.

Heavy rain began to pour.

No strength or will to run.

But I wasn't despairing.

I'd done what I had to.

That was enough.

That's what I'd tell myself.

Then it happened.

Time froze again.

"Ha..."

Morale up means combat power boost, right?

See?

I pulled it off.

I grinned dopily as a familiar BOOM! thundered from afar, followed by a wet SPLAT!.

A massive voice then shook the entire mountain, dominating the battlefield.

"I've smashed the knight from Alaka who backed you scum!! Any of you confident enough to face me, pick up your weapons!"

The thieves lunging at me hesitated.

It wasn't over yet. I still had work to do.

I hacked four times at the neck of the man I'd stabbed, severing the head.

Then I skewered it on my sword and raised it high.

"I! Took down your leader!"

It wasn't knightly thunder, no overwhelming force.

A frail girl's voice, but I wouldn't miss this chance to end the chaos—I screamed desperately.

"I!! Cut off your leader's head, you fucking bastards-!!!"

Blood dripped from the raised head, soiling me, but the downpour washed it away.

Clink—clatter—one, two.

Weapons dropping. Tension drained; I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted to collapse, but I knew better than to show weakness now.

Clatter-clatter—they all surrendered, weapons down.

Soldiers moved to bind them. The knights and nobles approached me.

"...You're one creepy girl."

The noble's first words weren't pleasant.

"But we won thanks to you. Thank you."

The nobles bowed first. The knights behind them followed suit.

"...Haha."

I slumped right there.

Time hadn't frozen, but that flat, mechanical voice echoed in my head.