Traveler: Derek Walker 30
Of course, the lord's castle boasted the strictest security in all of Bastrey Barony. This wasn't unique to Bastrey—castles everywhere made it nearly impossible for anyone of unclear origin to even enter. Within the outer castle, only those with special permission could pass, and among them, only the Bastrey Count himself and his top five vassals could access his office. Even his wife was excluded from that privilege.
The grounds were fitted with items that neutralized concealment magic, patrolled by guards and knights. Sneaking in as a commoner was utterly impossible, and even a top-tier assassin would have to risk their life for a shot at it. Without this level of security, the head of Bastrey Barony would've long since rolled from its shoulders.
Viscount Lilbero looked up at the owner of the voice. A handsome man with light green hair. He wore ordinary leather armor, the kind you saw on every street corner. Nothing special about him, aside from his looks. But his mere presence here meant he was anything but ordinary. If anything, the familiar aura radiating from him sent chills down Viscount Lilbero's spine.
"Wh-who are you!? Knights! Guards! Assassins! There's an assassin!"
The Bastrey Count screamed. But Lilbero realized it was futile. The entire office was already filled with black energy pouring from the handsome intruder. Clearly, this wasn't someone they could handle on their own.
He smiled amiably and spoke. "I don't hate humans. That's exactly why."
The mysterious man pointed out the window with a finger. At its tip lay the hellish chaos engulfing Bastrey city.
"You humans know how to 'self-purify.' Where there's shadow, there's light—just as someone always recognizes injustice and the absence of justice, shouting it out. Someone you call a 'hero.'"
He said it with a satisfied grin.
'Hero'. Viscount Lilbero swallowed hard at the word. Could this man be the mastermind behind it all? His power could easily explain the massive earthquake in the city center.
"Are you... the culprit behind this incident?"
Viscount Lilbero mustered every ounce of courage to ask. The green-haired man smiled gently, reassuringly, like a grandfather reading a fairy tale to a child.
"No. I believe humans should punish their own sins. I don't step in for this sort of thing. It wasn't me. I'm just intrigued by the situation."
From that, Lilbero knew the man wasn't human. His speech sounded almost like a noble angel, but the unfathomable dark mana emanating from him proved otherwise.
'No way... is this man...?'
"You seem curious, so let me introduce myself. I'm Spicul Bluelune. One of the Moon Clan you humans despise so much."
'Moon Clan'.
The Bastrey Count and Viscount Lilbero froze at the declaration. That name carried immense weight. The man before them was an enemy of humanity.
Spicul savored their expressions, gazing at them slowly.
"Moon Clan... cold demons trying to steal the continent's light...! It was you! You're the one who brought disaster to my beautiful territory!"
The Bastrey Count bit his lip and shouted. He had to say something, or fear would consume him whole.
Viscount Lilbero squeezed his eyes shut. He was certain the count would die groaning in agony. That was the relationship between the Moon Clan and humans. The cursed tribe, exiled from the Sun Continent to a distant lunar island, needed no grand reason to kill humans.
But the count didn't breathe his last.
"Hahaha. Setting aside that it wasn't me, calling this Bastrey territory 'beautiful' is... a bit much, don't you think?"
As Spicul finished speaking, darkness fell. Lilbero yelped and fell on his ass in shock. It wasn't that the light vanished—darkness spread like ink in water, enveloping everything. The office plunged into pitch black, lit only by Spicul's glowing green eyes. For a moment, Lilbero felt like he was facing two full moons—eerie, sinister ones. If moons like that rose, it wouldn't be strange for the whole world to go mad.
"Would you still call this beautiful?"
An image played in midair. Magic item? Lilbero shook his head—no, it was the man's power. Not the crude quality of magic tools, but crystal-clear footage indistinguishable from reality.
It showed the coliseum.
-Hwaaaang! Mommy! Mommy!
-Eat her up! Keeek! You said it yourself—the first bitch to get eaten would be that one!
-Fuck, hold out! You goddamn sluts! I bet on the upset today!
-Kghk! I don't wanna die like this!
-So 15 wins in a row is the limit. That gladiator's done for.
-Whoa! Right arm number eight got eaten!
The madness of the coliseum unfolded in vivid detail. Lilbero instinctively turned away. He didn't want to see it.
But Bastrey stood tall. He raised his voice defiantly—whether from sky-high courage or sheer idiocy, who could say?
"What's wrong with that!? Do I, a noble, have to pity trash like lowly commoners and slaves dying!? Those scum are like mercenaries dying hunting monsters or soldiers biting it on the battlefield. Just a different venue!"
This time he's dead for sure, Lilbero thought, eyes shut tight.
But instead of death, Spicul's gentle voice returned.
"Hmm. So that's your type. I get it. Born broken or warped later—defective goods."
Spicul's merciful tone clashed horribly with the scene, like elegant music at a murder site. That dissonance terrified Lilbero even more. The sheer incongruity birthed an overwhelming fear he couldn't resist.
Was this man really Moon Clan? He didn't match Lilbero's image of them at all.
"Well, my clan is full of defectives too, so I can't talk."
The man's voice shifted.
"Just as my clan was sentenced to eternal defeat by the Sun Heroes, so shall you be. Count Huan Bastrey."
"Grrrrgh!"
The Bastrey Count collapsed.
"My lord!"
Lilbero rushed to him, shouting urgently. No visible wounds.
"Just unconscious. As I said, humans punish humans. Not my place to intervene."
Spicul's tone lightened again. Lilbero, voice laced with fear and curiosity, asked:
"Then... if you're not the culprit, why are you here?"
Spicul chuckled. "For some sugar."
He picked up a small sugar lump from the count's desk—Snow Sugar bought through Walker Merchant Guild.
*-*-*
A blue-haired girl with both arms severed slept soundly in my arms. Poseidon, carrying me, the girl, and the one-eyed mercenary who'd passed out, raced toward the group at an unbelievable speed for three passengers. Technically four, since I counted as two. What a beast.
"Master~!"
Bloody Sera and my other self waited by the merchant guild. Looks like they teamed up to take down Corning.
My duplicate looked exhausted, waving it off. "Fucking tiring. I'm out."
"Got it. Good work."
He vanished back to the Extreme Sword Heaven World right away.
Sera's tail shot straight up as she stared at where he'd been. "Master! What was that other master just now!? He looked exactly like you!"
"My skill. I'll explain later. For now... time to talk with these girls."
I approached the group of girls guarded by Walker Merchant Guild soldiers. The light purple-haired one jumped in alarm at the blue-haired girl in my arms.
"Delphi!"
The black-haired girl followed, introducing herself as Meishi. Probably the big sis gladiator.
"Thank you so much for saving us."
She bowed deeply. She'd already clocked who was in charge here. Having a group leader made things convenient.
Time for introductions.
"I'm Derek Walker, head of Walker Merchant Guild and future lord of Coolong Territory."
The gladiator girls, Meishi included, didn't hide their wariness. But I'd undeniably helped them. Meishi kept her guard up but talked calmly. Way more rational than I'd expected. She'd led the girls brilliantly against the goblins in the coliseum too.
"Why... no, Sir Walker, why did you save us?"