Chapter 17
Chapter 17
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Bandit Subjugation (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"So, how did it go?"
The mercenary who had rushed back as a messenger grinned as he spoke.
"It's our victory, my lord. No fatalities or serious injuries."
No matter how confidently Helmut and Baldt had spoken, battles were unpredictable, so I'd been worried...
But it was a relief that no one was hurt.
I patted the messenger's shoulder and continued.
"Good work. Thanks for bringing the good news."
"Thank you, sir!"
"Any separate messages from Baldt or Helmut?"
"They said to bring about ten serfs for cleanup and head up to the bandits' lair."
"Got it. Wait here a moment."
I handed the messenger a pouch with a few pre-prepared silver coins.
Once the messenger had stepped back, I shouted loud enough for the serfs to hear.
"No one hurt, and we won! Ten of you follow me—the rest, head home and rest! I'll be back once cleanup's done. Dismissed!"
A brief silence fell, then cheers erupted here and there.
"Hooray!!"
"All the bandits are dead!!"
"I told you it'd be safe!!"
"Aw, if I'd known, I'd have gone with the mercenaries... We could've gotten some loot."
That serf over there who said he'd follow the mercenaries—he'd been shaking in fear on guard duty just moments ago. Seeing him brag now that victory was certain was amusing.
Back home, he'd probably grab his wife and kids and boast about it.
Claiming he had to bash in bandit skulls but couldn't because of the lord's orders—what a shame.
"Dismissed!"
At those words, the serfs picked up their farm tools—makeshift weapons—and headed home.
I followed the messenger up to the lair to wrap up the bandit subjugation.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The path up to the lair was rougher than expected.
In an era where roads were poorly maintained to begin with, this secret bandit trail had no stairs—just jagged rocks.
Tree shadows hid the holes, nearly tripping me several times.
With the serfs following, I couldn't cry out in surprise or show any fatigue...
If I'd come alone, I'd have rested plenty of times.
Trailing the messenger's back, we climbed the mountain path for about an hour before spotting mercenaries standing guard with spears.
The moment they saw us, they snapped their spears to salute and said,
"Lord, you must be tired from the climb! The captain and Sir Baldt are at the innermost part of the lair."
I clapped their shoulders and headed to the spot they indicated.
Deep inside the lair... it was worse than I'd imagined.
The dirt floor was pocked with dark red blood pools, chunks of bandit flesh and guts scattered everywhere.
Some bandits weren't dead yet, groaning "Ugh" while clutching their wounds.
Rats and flies crawled over the longer-dead corpses, gnawing at the flesh.
At least no rotting stench yet... thank goodness.
A bit further in, at the center of the lair, Baldt and other mercenaries had the surviving bandits bound with ropes, forced to their knees.
Rough count: ten men, twenty women, and about fifty kids of both sexes.
The moment I tallied them, Baldt approached with a beaming smile.
"Ah, Young Master! See? I told you I'd smash them without issue."
I smiled at his swagger and played along.
"Just as you said. Bandit subjugation or not, not a single casualty, and so quickly... Guess I worried for nothing."
"Even so, for a first battle, holding back was the wise choice. If you'd rushed to the front, I'd have stopped you."
"Oh?"
Baldt wiped away his smile, turning serious.
"Yes. We're used to killing, so we don't die in easy fights like this. But for you, Young Master, on your first outing—even these bandits could take you down. Oh, don't misunderstand—Knight Academy grads die to trash like this on their first battles all the time."
"I see."
"Yes. Come inside. We left the loot and slaves as is."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Guided by Baldt and Helmut, I first entered the prison area where the kidnapped slaves were held.
It was about twenty to thirty pyeong—not that big.
Two rickety wooden chairs for the guard bandits sat there, with wooden bars on left and right.
Inside the bars: straw mat floors, wooden buckets for waste, wooden blocks for pillows.
And the shocking part...
Dozens of women, probably snatched from nearby farms or towns.
They hadn't bathed in days—or months—their faces grimy black, all draped in ragged cloth.
As I stared in shock, Helmut beside me spoke in a grim tone.
"Young Master... Actually, they were kept naked in here. Probably... the bandits' playthings."
"I see..."
I knew bandits raped women and killed people—scum like that—but I hadn't imagined this level of depravity.
Or rather, I'd vaguely suspected, but seeing it hit harder.
Nausea surged at their evil, but I held it down and said,
"Protect all these women and send them to Windheim. No— their condition's too poor for the mountain path. Helmut, have the serfs bring wagons."
"Yes, understood."
I shot Baldt a sharp look.
"Baldt, where's their loot?"
"In the big hut at the center. Follow me."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ We entered the central hut.
Its interior rivaled the bailiff's mansion in luxury.
Fireplace, stove, beds wrapped in soft-looking fabric.
Chests along walls and corners held treasures and weapons.
Opening one: some jewelry, gold, silver, copper coins, weapons.
Dozens of gold coins—each worth a serf's hundred days' food—in this chest alone...
These bandits had profited well. Or rather, these dog scum kidnapped for sex toys too?
I turned to Baldt.
"This really everything? Mercenaries didn't take any?"
"Yes, Young Master. I stopped them—said you'd distribute fairly."
Impressive mercenaries—obedient too.
Most loot whenever they can, or can't...
Sigh... Could I recruit guys like this?
"Distribute all loot in this chest to the mercenaries, pay aside. Oh, you take that sword, Baldt. Looks good."
Baldt stared blankly.
"Really okay? This is beyond generous—it's giveaway level."
"You and the mercenaries did great—no more threat from these subhuman dogs to our lands. Least I can do. Take it. But tell them cleanup together."
"Yes, understood."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ After loading all loot and captive women onto wagons to my mansion, I headed to the central square for bandit interrogations.
I sat in the decent chair the mercenaries had set up, and the bandits started jeering.
"Ptoo! Damn brat lord! Letting the slaves go untouched to play nice? Eunuch? Gotta be!"
"Nah, young masters don't taste women before marriage. Poor guy. Hey, Young Master! I left some untouched for you—real shame!!"
Worse than trash. I had no intention of sparing them anyway...
But even on death's door, pretending fearless and spewing insults—impressive guts.
Fine, match that bravado.
"You, spearman—give that one's hand some attention."
"Yes."
The spearman set his spear down, drew his sword.
Approached the nearest bandit, slashed his left shoulder.
The bandit's left arm severed, blood spraying.
He stared blankly at the stump, uncomprehending.
Then screamed.
"My arm! My arm's cut off!!"
...I meant a few slaps, but they lopped it off.
Shocked, but I feigned calm.
"So, ready to talk now? Answer straight if you want to live, bandits."
Finally ready, they nodded, grins wiped away.