Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: The Bandit Knight
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The Bandit Knight
"A knight?"
Why the hell would a knight be out banditry? Of course, wandering knights were barely a step above mercenaries. Was he a former knight of the count? He recalled the wandering knights the count had hired in the past.
But calling him a "bandit knight" sounded as ridiculous as "princess knight." So he decided to just refer to him as the bandit leader.
Still, the emergence of this princess-knight-like idiot was already giving Kyle a headache. A bandit equipped like a knight. Wasn't that a headache-inducing combo just hearing about it? He'd been planning to head back to the territory soon to wrap things up, but the current situation had him glued in place.
"Tch... Can't just let this slide."
Bandit groups grew larger the stronger their leader was. And if the bastard was smart too, it was even worse. Sure, something like the bandit strongholds from Earth's wuxia novels was practically impossible here, but even without that, if the bandits formed a group numbering nearly a hundred, it would be a disaster for the territory right now.
What good was smashing the small fry? If a major bandit gang rampaged, the caravans would still cower in fear and avoid entering the territory.
Assessing the territory's shattered state, resolving the economic woes, investigating the reeves' embezzlement suspicions, subjugating bandits, maintaining public order, strengthening weakened authority... The to-do list was a mountain, and now these idiot bastards were running wild too. Kyle's head throbbed.
"A bandit knight..."
The swordsmen wore looks of utter disbelief at the absurd phrase. Betraying one's honor to commit banditry wasn't something a knight should be called—or even could be.
Any knight worth the name would leap up in rage at the mere knowledge of someone tarnishing the title through banditry, vowing to tear the offender apart.
When knights fleeced commoners, it was always dressed up as "requisitioning" or "tax collection," never outright banditry. That's why Kyle figured the guy wasn't raiding villages but systematically collecting "tolls" from them as he traveled. Didn't change the fact that he was still a bandit bastard.
But as the saying goes, crisis breeds opportunity. After a moment's thought, he decided to shift his perspective. Reeves embezzling taxes until their bellies burst while the lord was away, versus bandits who at least piled up their loot in their hideout without pocketing it. Which side was more honest?
From the perspective of the territory's new lord, bandits who honestly stockpiled their spoils seemed downright upright compared to those gluttonous embezzlers. It was enough to drive him mad with frustration, sure.
'He's been circling villages extorting protection money for a while now, so there must be a decent haul.'
Stolen goods, and with caravans too scared to enter, it was all piled up in their lair. If he reclaimed it all... Kyle licked his lips, imagining the loot like an adventurer stumbling on a spring in the desert.
All that occupied his mind now was how to best use the bandits' diligently gathered spoils.
"We'll track them. Rest up in the village for now."
I began tracking in the direction the village chief had indicated. They made regular rounds for collections, so they stuck to the same route, it seemed. Their traces were glaringly clear along the forest path.
Crushed grass tracks. Even that revealed their level of armament. Sure, they were hauling loot that added weight, but the footprints in the grass showed they were equipped on par with regular soldiers.
The swordsmen, amazed at how I followed the trail without hesitation, chuckled as they spoke.
"They say you were a hunter, my lord, and it's true. To us, it's just grass."
"Look closely, and you'll see it. Grass springs back after being stepped on, but it leaves marks of injury."
That was easy to say—I'd nearly gone blind mastering this back in the day. But starving to death wasn't an option, so I'd crawled on my belly to learn the tricks.
Shaking off the brief reminiscence, I refocused on the pursuit. At the least, we needed to spot them by tonight or tomorrow morning.
Clank—clank—
The clashing of armor, birds chirping, insects buzzing. We'd left the village bounds and were trekking silently through the forest, eyes scanning everywhere. And then, at some point...
......
The birds fell silent. The insects too. The forest turned eerily still, like a lie. It happens in school sometimes—that sudden hush. But in this silence, I sensed a sharp killing intent!
"Ambush!"
Swish! Thwang!
"Urgh!"
No sooner had I shouted than an arrow whistled from the woods, slamming into a swordsman's armor. He groaned, but thankfully, his plate did its job, deflecting the sudden shot.
And with that, arrows rained from all sides. Not in great numbers, but threatening enough. Aside from breastplates, most of their bodies were clad in chainmail, which offered poor protection against arrows.
"Don't panic! The enemy's few in number! I'll take point!"
I bolted toward the arrow's origin. All my focus locked forward. The incoming arrowhead glinted in the sunlight.
Swatting arrows with a sword is insanely hard. Hitting a baseball clocking late 100s km/h is tough enough—how much harder for a faster arrow?
Tang!
The arrow struck my gauntlet and spun off into the air. Through the trees, I spotted the archers clearly. They'd planned a hit-and-run, but my charge left them panicking.
"Wha—?!"
Slash!
In an instant, one bandit's head flew. The rest spun to flee. Four left.
"Damn it!"
Two drew swords while the other two bolted. Textbook moves—no untrained rabble could react like that, judging the situation so swiftly.
"Graaah!"
My man-sized blade whirled like a windmill, carving deep into one's torso. Arm severed in a flash, the sword tore through flesh and bone before bursting out the other side.
"Gale!"
As the bisected bandit toppled, his comrade gritted his teeth and swung at me. But how well could an archer wield a sword? His clumsy strike didn't even graze my clothes.
Slash—!
Eyes bulging, his head sailed off, body crumpling with sword still clutched. Two left now. But they'd already slipped from sight.
I gestured urgently to the swordsmen. For my glory—no, to save the territory on the brink—I needed their loot.
"You lot, chase the one on the left! Capture him at all costs!"
"As you command!"
The loyal swordsmen charged the direction I pointed. Clad in heavy plate, they might not catch him, but... for now, I'd settle for the right-flanker.
Thud-thud-thud!
Pounding along in heavy armor with sword in hand cratered the soft earth, making running a chore, but letting him escape wasn't an option. I gritted my teeth and pushed. Trees and brush whipped past.
Luckily, my efforts paid off—I soon spotted the fugitive's back. Hearing my footsteps amid his blind sprint, he glanced over, eyes bulging wide. Realizing escape was futile, he whirled with sword drawn. But...
Terror flooded his face at the sight of me charging. No idea what spooked him so.
Clang!
He glanced between my face and his sword, then hurled it aside and dropped flat.
"Mercy! Just this once, spare me, milord! I'll spill everything I know!"
I hadn't planned to kill him anyway—would've beaten him senseless if needed. Dragging the anticlimactically surrendered bandit back to where I'd split from the swordsmen felt almost hollow.
The group pursuing the other returned much later, empty-handed and heads bowed in shame.
"Forgive us, my lord... He was too fast..."
"Chasing a lightly armored bandit in full plate? Bound to happen. I've got one, so we're good."
Instead of dwelling, I grabbed the fresh captive by the scruff.
"Spill everything you know. Now."
Wandering knight Esult. He called himself a knight, but he knew full well he wasn't knight material. Not a matter of skill, but character.
Too vulgar for knighthood, lacking even the hypocrisy of honor, no one accepted him as such. He'd roamed battlefields taking pay like a sellsword—closer to mercenary than knight. And recently, he'd finally gained a liege who took him in...
"Milord! Milord! Big trouble!"
Interrupted mid-reverie, he scowled. He'd just reached the good part. To elaborate: Esult had stumbled on a suspicious cave and found a black heart within.
An inexplicable craving hit him at first sight. Drawn like a moth, he approached and blacked out. When he awoke, he felt stronger.
His armored body felt light as a raven's feather. Though he couldn't relocate the cave, Esult chalked it up to legendary mystic power.
"Milord? Gahk!"
He seized the throat of the bandit calling him again. The power had strengthened him but gifted something unwanted: savagery. Barely suppressing the urge to snap the man's neck.
"What is it."
His crimson eyes gleamed menacingly, flattening the terrified bandit as he blurted it out.
"A knight and soldiers are nearby, they say. Looks like a subjugation force... What do we do?"
One knight and some soldiers. Unaware of the territory's new lord, Esult assumed it was a local knight on routine patrol from a nearby manor. He grinned wickedly.
"Perfect. A knight with a manor should fetch a fine ransom."
"You mean...?"
"Tell the others to prepare for battle."
As Esult's bandits readied for combat, Kyle extracted the hideout's location from his captive. They moved out at once. Their presence was blown, so strike before the enemy finished prepping.
The issue: Esult's bandits were more elite than expected. Both sides moved faster than anticipated, leading to a clash neither foresaw, far earlier than planned.