No Mercy for the Weak

The situation was completely fucked. With us gone, Count Holstead's mansion was practically an empty house. Sure, there were guards, but to a monster like Gawain, that was nothing. Honestly, if I hadn't contracted with the Spirit King, I wouldn't have been able to beat that bastard. He was the kind of monster where even Lorsch and I fighting together wouldn't guarantee a win.

"Lorsch, you stay here and conserve your mana while looking after Lady Glacia and Airi. I'll head to the mansion alone."

I tried to look cool saying it, but the backlash was stronger than expected.

"Don't talk shit, you idiot! You've got burns all over you! And you're gonna fight alone? Have you lost your damn mind?"

"Master, are you crazy? What am I supposed to do if something happens to you while you're chasing after them alone?"

"Even I will go with you. If the enemy is as dangerous as that man named Lancelot we just met... I cannot let Sir Werner ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go alone."

No, that guy had taken quite a bit of damage too, and on top of that, he'd exhausted himself spewing out that ridiculous amount of flames. Sure, I'd gotten burns on my arm, but this level of injury was just another Tuesday for me. Setting fire to hotels, creating chaos, killing the target, and erasing the evidence was my specialty. Of course, in the process of all that fighting, burns were basically just accessories.

"I'll be fine on my own."

I couldn't just abandon someone like Count Holstead. I hated the idea of such a foolishly good person dying more than anything. If he died without me knowing, I could mourn him, but now that I'd met him face to face, I wasn't about to let him die so easily.

"I'm Werner Alton. The world's strongest mage."

I stared at them with unwavering eyes, trying to instill confidence. That if it was me, I'd be okay. That I could at least protect my own life. After seeing the look in my eyes, they had no choice but to let me go. They knew I was the type of person who couldn't be tied down by words.

I was Unchained. A man who could never be bound.

"Then I'll be off."

Lorsch grabbed my collar and yanked me back.

"If you come back hurt like last time, I'll just kill you myself. I'll kill you, preserve you in formalin, and turn you into a decoration."

I wish she'd pick one—tsundere or yandere. I didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠want to become some mysterious figure like an announcer from a certain country, so I had to come back without a single scratch. In game terms, it was basically a no-hit quest.

"Yeah, like I'd be scared enough to run away."

With those words, I started running toward the mansion. There was a flat road, but it would take too long, so I turned toward the forest shortcut. The forest was dark, humid, and hot, but I didn't care. The only thing that bothered me was whether I'd be too late.

After running for a while, a smell that grated on my nerves hit me. The thick stench of blood and the reek of human garbage.

"Stop with the pathetic ambush and come out already, you fucking bastards."

Their hiding skills were absolute garbage, but... judging by their presence, their combat ability was first-rate. So they were probably the type who preferred straightforward fighting over assassination work.

What appeared were ten black-masked underlings of the Black Round Table, along with a young man and woman who seemed to be leading them.

"Wait, I thought he was just a mage? But his running form is pure assassin, and he even noticed we were hiding... Is he really a mage?"

"If it weren't for the boss's orders, I'd honestly just ignore him..."

"Don't lie. You're totally excited about killing him."

"Fuck, you caught me... Still, opportunities like this don't come often. Killing one of the most famous heroes on the continent? That's the best."

"Ugh, you pleasure-killing psycho."

Ha... As expected from fellow industry workers, their conversation was incredibly vulgar. There were occasionally guys who enjoyed this kind of work that way. And most of those bastards had incredibly filthy mouths—comparing them to the kind of shit you'd see on community sites about "mom's pussy" or whatever would be an insult to those degenerates.

"Heh heh, and you were the one cackling while cutting off that count's ankle last time. I don't enjoy torture like you do, you torture addict bitch."

Wait, what the hell did that cunt just say...?

"You were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the one who raped and killed that count's little sister and his pregnant wife right in front of him last time. I don't do shit like that."

"Bullshit~ You're the one who sliced open a woman's belly and..."

I couldn't overlook this. Normally, I would speak like the cheerful Lee Baek and think like that kid while laughing. But... when these fucking pieces of shit were in front of me, I couldn't laugh.

"Hahaha... Even the world's greatest archmage gets scared when it comes to this, huh? Look at him trembling..."

"Hey."

Knowing that scum like this were breathing the same air made it hard to breathe properly. It was like how if you become conscious of the fact that you're breathing, you suddenly have to do it manually.

"Don't even think about going home alive, you fucks. I'm not sending you home, I'm not letting you live, and I'm going to massacre your entire families."

Since the Holstead mansion took priority, I couldn't torture them right now... but I'd tie them up first, handle the mansion, then come back for the torture.

It was neither particularly large nor small—a modest mansion. Gawain climbed the stairs, blood dripping from his wounds. A few of the knives Werner had thrown while he was fleeing had lodged in his side. The daggers, coated with freezing magic to prevent regeneration like before, had left deep wounds.

"That bastard... pulled some ridiculous shit... Still, fuck it. I have to complete the mission."

Upon reaching the third floor, Gawain headed for the largest door—the master's bedroom. He'd already found where the Iron Spirit King resided. All that remained was to threaten him and obtain the holy relic.

"That damn Lancelot bastard... Once I get back, I'll brand him and that Gallahad bitch as traitors and kill them both."

However, when he arrived in front of the master's bedroom door, what greeted him was an old butler.

The elderly butler bowed politely and said,

"Welcome to the Holstead family mansion. The Count is waiting for you, so please, come inside."

"Hmph. Putting on airs? You must have assassins prepared inside, huh?"

But the old butler gave no response. Gawain, deciding he had no intention of killing such an old man, ignored him and entered the room. The butler smiled bitterly and began praying to the Goddess.

Count Holstead, still coughing up blood, looked even more haggard than before. As if mocking that appearance, Gawain curled his lips into a smirk and said,

"You know why I'm here. Just hand over the item and die painlessly. It's better for both of us."

"The Black Round Table... I'm just a sickly man living in the countryside, but gathering information is my specialty. I've managed to collect quite a lot about your organization."

"What...?"

"Thirty years ago, a mysterious figure who called himself the King created an organization. Knights with various unique constitutions or who wield peculiar weapons... An organization whose subordinate forces alone rival the size of a nation... On top of that, they've embedded their members in every field across every country... I couldn't identify exactly who they were due to lack of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time, but..."

"Most people don't even know of our existence. You really do have talent in that area. Though you'll die today anyway."

"Indeed. I've used this ability to help His Highness the Crown Prince greatly. Though I'll die today."

Count Holstead had already accepted his death. Of course, it wouldn't be the death Gawain would deliver.

"Though this mansion is small... it has quite a few rooms. Yet I only gave two rooms to Sir Werner's party. Do you know why?"

"Are you going mad because death is near? Why are you suddenly..."

"Because every room was full."

"What nonsense? The only people in this mansion are you and that old butler outside."

Not just the mansion—every building within a one-kilometer radius was empty.

"Since mining is the main industry of my territory, we have more than enough explosives. I also had enough money to purchase mana bombs from the Magic Tower. And as the lord, I could clear out all the nearby buildings."

In the countless rooms Werner couldn't enter, every kind of bomb and explosive had been packed to the brim.

"You fucking... you can't be serious..."

Count Holstead pulled a magic-infused button from his pocket. Pressing it would detonate the mana bomb, which would trigger all the other explosives at once. The explosion... was not something Gawain, already exhausted and bleeding, could withstand.

Gawain hurriedly tried to kill Count Holstead and snatch the remote.

"You son of a—"

But his hand never reached the Count. In the sick man's hand, lying on the bed, was a crystal orb.

"The Goddess said that revenge is a sin... but rather than let you live, I'd rather fall into hell... You who took Gawain's seat in the Black Round Table... You're quite strong, aren't you? Strong enough to treat someone like me as nothing more than an insect..."

Count Holstead placed his thumb on the switch and said,

"Today, you will die at the hands of this insignificant insect... *cough*!"

"Stop... I can't die like this..."

"The people you and your subordinates killed... My sister and my wife said the same thing. So let's fall into hell together..."

With those words, Count Holstead pressed the switch. The sick count and the burning knight were both swallowed by the massive explosion.