The Fork in the Road
The muscles throughout his body felt as if they were gaining even more strength.
It was similar to the way muscles swell and tighten after a grueling workout.
Ion paused for a moment, unsettled by the unfamiliar sensation, when Guido and the bandits shouted in alarm.
“S-stop him!”
“Attack!”
The bandits charged forward, thrusting spears and swinging clubs.
The red dot marking the already-dead bandit had vanished, and the movements of the rushing bandits were now visible at a single glance.
Ion advanced one steady step at a time without panic, swinging his sword with each stride.
He didn’t even turn his head toward those stabbing from the side; he simply sliced through spear shafts and severed the hands gripping clubs.
“Guhhhk!”
“Aaaargh!”
The bandits who had lost their weapons and suffered slashed hands staggered back, twisting away.
“H-he’s a monster!”
No. This much was something any ordinary knight could accomplish even without seeing the dots.
These bandits were reacting this way only because they saw Ion not as a knight, but merely as a parentless child.
That assessment wasn’t entirely wrong, yet the fact that mere bandits dared to think so filled him with rage.
Ion hurled the hand axe tucked at his waist at a fleeing bandit and threw his dagger as well.
Whirr!
Perhaps because his body was not yet fully developed, the flying axe failed to bury itself in the man’s back.
The axe handle struck the bandit squarely on the back of the head, and the man crumpled forward like a broken doll.
The dagger missed its target entirely.
It grazed beside Guido’s head and clattered to the ground. Guido collapsed in terror.
I need to build more strength in my arms and legs.
Ion ran forward and stomped hard on Guido’s ankle.
“Kyaargh!”
He chased the bandits fleeing into the forest, driving his sword into their backs and slicing them open.
Born the son of a knight, the first thing he had learned—before reading or writing—was how to swing a sword.
His current strength was still lacking, but the memories and experience from his previous life were more than enough.
That was why there was no hesitation in his movements.
After dealing with all four fleeing men, he returned to where Guido lay.
He drove his sword into the chest of the bandit who had been knocked unconscious by the axe handle, ending his life.
Whether it was the fleeing bandits or this one now, he had made certain to finish them off immediately—just in case—and each time, he felt his muscles gain a little more power.
It was no illusion.
Swinging a sword, slicing through flesh and muscle, and shattering bone was far more difficult and exhausting than it seemed.
Normally, the opponent would be armed as well, so such battles unfolded under extreme tension.
Even in light, brief fights, fatigue lingered for a long time.
But if slaying enemies restored his stamina and granted him strength the way it did for Ion now, that was no small blessing.
He didn’t yet know the limits of this blessing, but it was clear his second life would be different from the very beginning.
Deciding he would learn more about it gradually, Ion turned his gaze to Guido.
Unable to stand because of his injured ankle, Guido was crawling desperately, trying to escape.
Ion approached and stomped on the man’s other ankle—the one he hadn’t crushed yet.
Crack!
The ankle twisted at a grotesque angle, and Guido screamed.
“Aaaaaargh!”
As the man thrashed and howled, drenched in sweat, a cold blade touched his throat.
Guido froze, staring up at Ion with eyes full of terror.
“Y-young master…”
“Calling me young master now? How amusing.”
“…”
“Especially after you tried to kill me and steal my horse, armor, and weapons—with the help of bandits, no less. I imagine you’ve done far worse things than that, haven’t you?”
“T-that’s…”
In the end, it had all been about money.
It seemed correct to assume that Ana and Guido had been doing this sort of thing for a long time.
Neither Ion nor Anton had kept proper watch over them.
Anton had never had a head for finances, and Ion at this age had shown no interest in such matters.
“Even if Father was extravagant and never saved much, doesn’t it seem a little strange that he left behind nothing but debt?”
“I-I know nothing about that.”
“Then who would? Does Ana know?”
At Ion’s question, Guido’s eyes darted about as he tried to dodge the answer.
People who avoided eye contact and tried to muddle their way through were almost always lying.
“I-I don’t know! Neither my wife nor I know anything! It’s the truth!”
That was impossible.
Even normally, it had always been Ana who held the upper hand in their marriage, manipulating Guido as she pleased.
Though Ion had grown fond of them over the years, the couple had never been particularly warm people, nor had they been especially close to him.
Crying from early morning was not something they were accustomed to.
“I’ll go ask Ana myself.”
Ion pressed the sword harder against Guido’s throat, piercing the Adam’s apple and driving it deeper.
“Guh… guhkk!”
He continued pushing until the blade snapped the neck bone, then pulled it free. Guido’s body shuddered violently for a moment before going still, rapidly growing cold.
Surrounded by seven corpses—including Guido’s—scattered across the mountain path, Ion stood in brief contemplation.
He searched the bodies for anything of value, but all he found were a few coins.
Ion gathered the corpses, loaded them onto the horse and donkey, and began the journey back the way he had come.
The sun had already begun to set. He had set out that morning.
There were things he needed to do back home.
Ana stood on the first floor of Anton’s mansion, staring out the window as she waited for Guido’s return.
She had packed all their belongings and placed them by the front door, ready to leave the moment he arrived, but night had fallen and he still hadn’t appeared.
Worried that something might have gone wrong, she remained glued to the window, peering anxiously into the darkness.
It had been more than twenty years since Ana first entered Sir Anton’s household as a maid.
She had started as a servant, met Guido—who performed odd jobs around the estate—and worked her way up until she managed nearly all the household affairs.
She had skimmed a little from the food budget behind the financially oblivious Anton’s back and occasionally dipped into the other servants’ wages.
As long as the knights’ salaries continued to arrive on time, the shortfall could always be covered, and because no one had monitored her for so long, she had grown careless.
Then Anton died. When Ion held the debt auction, she had hidden what little money remained and secretly sold off the mansion’s valuables.
And today.
Once Guido returned with Ion’s horse, armor, and weapons, they could sell those too, take the money, and disappear.
She held no personal grudge against Ion, but if he ever learned the truth later and came looking for them, it would be disastrous.
It was far better to kill him now.
“Why isn’t that man back yet? There’s no way a whole group of them couldn’t handle one little brat…”
Her husband was taking far too long.
Ana never once imagined that Ion might escape the bandits. Instead, she worried that the bandits might be demanding more money, causing the delay.
At that moment—
“…!”
A cold blade pressed against Ana’s throat.
She was so startled she couldn’t even move.
“Were you waiting for Guido to return?”
The familiar voice of Ion sent a violent shiver through her body.
“Y-young master?”
“Yes. It’s me. You didn’t think I’d come back, did you?”
“…Y-yes. You surprised me. D-did you decide not to leave after all? D-did my husband come back with you?”
“That’s right. I came with Guido. Six of his friends came along too.”
“M-my husband’s friends?”
Even with a sword at her throat, Ana continued to feign ignorance with her words.
But her body was honest—her hands and legs were trembling uncontrollably.
Ion felt a wave of self-disgust at the realization that in his previous life he had never seen through people like this.
His eyes then fell on the bundle of luggage sitting by the front door.
“You were planning to run away?”
“…N-no, of course not.”
“Then what is that luggage by the entrance?”
“…T-that’s… we don’t have anywhere to go if we leave this house. W-we were just going to move…”
It was a clumsy, pointless excuse.
“I actually came to ask where you’ve been hiding the money you’ve been stealing from our family all these years, but since I can just take that bundle, I suppose I don’t need to bother asking.”
“What? W-what are you…?”
Ana spun around in shock and saw Ion covered head to toe in blood—armor, clothes, everything. Her eyes widened in horror.
“Y-young master? The b-blood…?”
“None of it is mine.”
“…”
“If you’re going to spout ridiculous excuses or lies, you’d better keep your mouth shut. It’ll hurt less when you die.”
Ana was rendered speechless by the cold, merciless version of Ion she had never seen before.
“…Is my… husband dead?”
“Yes. All the other bandits are dead too.”
“…B-bandits? I-I don’t know anything about that!”
“That’s exactly what Guido said.”
“P-please spare me… Young master.”
Even if the old Ion had known about all this before his regression, he probably wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to act.
But the Ion of now was unmoved by such pleas.
Though his body was young, his mind and experience belonged to a seasoned, middle-aged knight who had seen every hardship war could offer.
He drew the sword across her throat in one clean motion.
Shuk!
Half her neck was severed, spraying blood everywhere.
Ana collapsed soon after. A faint surge of strength flowed into his muscles.
Dawn broke over Bergen Territory.
The residents began to wake.
—Fire!
—There’s a fire! Everyone wake up!
Whoosh!
The blazing flames lit up one side of the territory. People rushed toward the blaze.
Most of the buildings were made of wood, so they had to extinguish the fire or prevent it from spreading before it reached the rest of the settlement.
—It’s Sir Anton’s mansion that’s burning!
—There’s no one living there anymore! They all left!
—That’s right! I saw the young master wearing armor and leaving the territory yesterday afternoon!
—Then who the hell set the fire?
Wearing a cloak that covered his entire body and a hood pulled low over his face, Ion stood in the shadows, avoiding the crowd of residents rushing toward the mansion. Once they passed, he moved on.
He had arranged the corpses he had brought back inside the mansion to look as if they had fought one another, then set the place ablaze.
Once the fire was put out, it would appear as though they had died fighting off robbers.
The horse and donkey were now carrying the bundles Ana had packed.
He traveled through the night with the horse and donkey loaded with supplies.
Around dawn, he reached a fork in the road—one path leading south, the other north.
I’m back here again.
In his previous life, he had fled from bandits and arrived at this very crossroads. He had struggled southward and barely reached the Werner Count’s household.
Though he was only a distant relative, the story of his long journey earned him the chance to begin knight training. From then on, he had lived his entire life within the Werner domain.
Since he had decided to live differently this time, he chose the northern path.
Traveling alone while leading both a horse and a donkey took longer than expected.
Horses could be stubborn, but donkeys were even worse—sometimes they would simply stop in the middle of carrying loads and refuse to move.
Ordinarily it wouldn’t matter, but throwing a tantrum in the middle of a mountain path could invite attacks from wild beasts. It was dangerous.
This was the second day since he had taken the northern road at the fork.
In the late afternoon, as the sun slowly sank, he was forced to stop in the middle of a forested mountain trail because of the donkey.
Wolves frequently appeared in the mountains around Bergen, where Ion had lived.
They didn’t roam in large packs like in other regions, but wolves were still among the beasts one least wanted to encounter in the mountains.
—Awooooo!
As if his thoughts had summoned them, a wolf howled.
The donkey, which had been stubbornly refusing to move, seemed to snap back to its senses at the sound.
The animal that wouldn’t budge no matter how hard Ion pulled on the reins suddenly began walking on its own.
He continued forward, hoping the wolves would not come this way, leading the horse and donkey along.
—Awooooooooo!
The howl sounded much closer now.
The transparent map with its visible arrowheads normally showed only Ion as an arrow. Enemy positions only appeared as red dots once combat began.
At the sound of the nearby wolf howl, three red dots appeared. Soon after, three wolves emerged at the end of the path.
Three should be manageable.
He dropped the reins, drew his longsword, and walked toward the wolves.
He had wanted to test whether the power he gained from killing also worked on beasts. The perfect number had shown up.
“Grrrrr!”
The three wolves prowled forward, blocking the path. When Ion drew closer, they kicked off the ground and lunged.
The order in which the red dots charged was perfectly clear.
Seeing them so clearly made it easy to set priorities.
“Grr! Grr! Grr!”
Ion charged toward the wolves as well, swinging his sword upward from below.
The dirt he kicked up scattered into the wolves’ eyes. In that brief opening, he dashed forward and thrust his blade.
Some people called scattering dirt or using such tricks cowardly, but it was a common tactic even in fights between knights.
In a battle where life and death were on the line, victory was justice.
As long as he wasn’t facing the unarmed or the helpless, any method that led to victory was acceptable.
The sword he thrust while charging sliced through one wolf’s leg.
“Yelp!”
His strength had increased, but not as much as he had hoped.
He had been aiming for the chest, but the blow had glanced off slightly.
When the leg-wounded wolf fell, he swung at the one beside it.
The wolf leaped sideways to avoid the blade. The sword only trimmed a bit of its fur and lost its target.
At that moment the third wolf leaped at him. Ion dropped into a crouch, dodging its fangs, then thrust upward, slicing the wolf’s belly wide open.
The third wolf’s stomach split apart while it was still in midair. Its guts spilled out.
“Yipe!”
He had already incapacitated two of them.
The second wolf, which had dodged his sword, kicked off the ground and charged at the crouching Ion. He rolled across the dirt to evade, scooped up a handful of soil, and flung it into the wolf’s eyes.
“Yelp!”
The wolf shut its eyes and leaped. Ion drove his sword straight into its chest.
The blade pierced its heart. Its breathing stopped moments later.
A faint tremor ran through him. Even slaying these wolves granted him strength.
Whether the difference came from beast versus human or strong versus weak, the sensation was slightly different.
The recovery of his body felt stronger than the increase in raw power.
Ion drove his sword into the forehead of the wolf whose belly had been torn open, then finished off the limping, leg-wounded wolf by stabbing it through the chest as well.
He shoved the wolf carcasses aside and returned to the horse and donkey.
Whether because they had smelled the wolves’ blood or because they had witnessed the fight, the donkey had become perfectly obedient.